Belonging
by Dr. Zachary Smith
Summary: When the Robinsons and Major West discover why their resident Scrooge doesn't like Christmas, they set out to change his mind.


Author's note: The events in this story take place in Smith's first year with the Robinsons.

* * *

Laughter and enthusiastic caroling surrounded the doctor as he sat quietly sipping coffee from a mug. He seemed lost in thought.

"Dr. Smith, aren't you going to help us decorate the Christmas tree?" Will asked.

"What?" Smith replied, distracted.

"The tree? Aren't you going to help us decorate it?"

"No," Smith declined and shooed him off with a wave of his hand, "you and your sisters are doing an admirable job. I'll just be in the way."

"No, you won't, Dr. Smith. Please?" Penny pleaded.

"You're wasting your time," Major West chimed in as he entered the room. "It would take a miracle to get our resident Scrooge involved in the festivities."

Smith sneered at the Major behind the mug he'd raised to his lips before he took another sip.

"I bet you got coal in your stocking every year when you were a kid," the Major continued. "Eh, Smith?"

"Don," Judy warned, "it's Christmas." She wouldn't tolerate bickering ruining their festive mood.

"Alright," Don relented. "Christmas truce?"

Smith rolled his eyes. "I wasn't the one on the attack, Major."

"Point taken," Don replied.

"C'mon, you two," Judy took both Don and Smith's hands and ushered them over to the tree. "The Robinson family INSISTS on full participation in Christmas activities," she explained with a smile. She put an ornament into Smith's hand.

"What do I do with this?" Smith queried, as he examined the plastic bauble.

"You hang it on the tree, silly," Penny answered. "Like this," she demonstrated.

Smith draped the loop of thread over a branch, only to see the ornament slide off, land on the floor, and roll across the deck. Will retrieved it and brought it back to the doctor. "Here, Dr. Smith."

"No," Smith pushed it back toward Will. "I think you'd better do it. I… suddenly don't feel very well. I think I shall retire to my room for the evening."

Will shrugged and hung the ornament himself but glanced over his shoulder with a touch of concern as Smith left.

The Professor and Mrs. Robinson arrived on the lift just in time to see Smith leave for his room.

"Where's he going?" the Professor asked.

"In his cabin, to play Scrooge," Don replied, laughing.

The Professor shrugged and picked up an ornament to hang on the oddly shaped alien tree while Mrs. Robinson handed out fresh-baked cookies hot from the oven.

While the others were occupied, the Robot rolled surreptitiously to the doctor's cabin. The light rapping of his claw on the door was met with an exasperated, "Go away."

"Dr. Smith?" the Robot inquired.

The doctor sighed. "Come in, booby."

The Robot slid the accordion door open, then quietly closed it after he'd entered.

"What do you want?" Smith barked.

"Your behavior does not compute. Everyone is joyful and decorating. You are not. Is something wrong?" the Robot asked. "Why do you not enjoy Christmas?"

Smith glared at the Robot for a moment, then lowered his gaze to his hands folded in his lap. "Bad memories," was his cryptic answer.

"Do you wish to discuss them?"

"No," Smith replied.

The Robot turned to leave.

"Yes!" the doctor blurted out.

"Good. It may help to discuss your memories. My auditory sensors are listening," the Robot replied.

Smith twiddled his thumbs for a moment. Usually, he guarded his privacy zealously, especially around the Robinsons and Major West, but he had found a confidant in the Robot, a confidant whose memory could be wiped. Smith nodded and composed his thoughts as he shifted into a more comfortable position. He lay on his bed, pillow beneath his head, hands laced together over his mid-section.

Staring at the ceiling, he admitted, "I've… never really had a Christmas before. Not like most families have. Not like the Robinsons have."

"When you were a child, why didn't your family celebrate Christmas?" the Robot asked. "Didn't your parents get you gifts?"

"My parents were…" Smith winced at the memory, "…killed… when I was very young."

"I am very sorry, Doctor Smith," the Robot replied.

Smith acknowledged the sentiment with a nod. "I don't really remember any Christmases with my parents. We were very poor, so I doubt there were any presents. I barely remember my parents at all. For years, I was passed from relative to relative until my great Aunt Maude finally took me in."

"And she didn't celebrate Christmas?" the Robot queried.

"Impractical, frivolous, a waste of money she called it," Smith explained. "Aunt Maude was apparently wealthy because she rarely spent any money she made. Oh, I'd get one present, usually socks or underwear, something practical. Nothing childish, like toys or games. No trees or decorations." Smith became lost in his own memories. "When she'd take me into town, I was in complete awe of the festive lights and decorations. I'd join the other boys and girls gawking in the window of the toy shop. There were so many toys, but the one I wanted most was…" Smith cut himself off.

"What?" the Robot asked.

"No, it's silly," Smith replied.

"What is silly about a young boy wanting a toy? That does not compute. Most children want toys."

"Well… it was the Captain Space Solar Academy. Over 100 pieces, rocket ships, robots, flying saucers, spacemen, vehicles, radar guns... It had everything to spark a young boy's imagination." Smith's face brightened at the memory.

The Robot's sensors lit up in amusement. "You had an interest in space at a young age?" Robot asked.

"Yes," Smith affirmed. "When I was a young lad, it was the great unknown, the one place humans hadn't yet explored."

"The final frontier?" the Robot quipped.

"To borrow a phrase," Smith chuckled. "That year, I wrote to Santa asking for that playset. I couldn't comprehend why Santa brought gifts to all my school mates, but never to me, even when I was on my most exemplary behavior. That's the year I finally became cognizant of the elaborate lies surrounding Santa. It finally made sense to me. Santa never came because Aunt Maude had no intention of playing Santa."

"And how did that make you feel?" the Robot asked, taking up the therapist role Doctor Smith usually played.

Smith sighed heavily. "I… I'm not sure I know just how to convey that feeling with words. I know Aunt Maude cared for me. She took me in when no one else would. She provided everything I needed…"

"And nothing more…" the Robot finished.

"And nothing more," Smith confirmed.

"Play is important to the development of a healthy child," the Robot stated.

"It is. And space fascinated me. Not to go to myself, of course. I hadn't the courage, nor the fortitude, to pursue something as dangerous as that. Still, it fascinated me. It's part of why I became a psychiatrist and entered the Air Force. I wanted to study and understand the psyches of those who _did_ have the courage to go into space," Smith explained. "And to somehow play a part in those great missions, even if I never left terra firma."

"That computes," the Robot replied.

Smith continued to confide in the Robot all the reasons he'd never enjoyed Christmas. It was cathartic for the doctor, releasing feelings he'd kept bottled up for so long. The Robot listened quietly, only interjecting when he felt it was needed. Smith droned on and on until he finally trailed off, pulled into a gentle sleep by a combination of fatigue and relief. The Robot grabbed a blanket and settled it over the sleeping doctor. He left the cabin quietly and rejoined the Robinsons.

"Robot," Will greeted. "How's Doctor Smith?"

"Better," the Robot replied.

"What was wrong?" Penny asked.

"I am not sure Doctor Smith would like me to discuss that."

"Did he specifically tell you not to tell us what you two were talking about?" Don pushed.

"Negative," the Robot answered.

"Well then, it seems to me that you're not forbidden from telling us," Don explained.

Judy was about to squelch the conversation, to protect the doctor's privacy, when the Robot spoke.

"He told me why he does not enjoy Christmas," the Robot responded.

"Oh, really," Don grinned.

John shot a look at Don that said "be nice".

The Robot proceeded to spill everything the doctor had told him. The Professor had considered stopping him at a few points, but fascination about the details of the life of their usually mysterious stowaway kept him listening in rapt attention. Afterward, everyone sat silently absorbing what they'd just heard.

The Major was the first one to break the silence. "I guess I can't blame him for not enjoying Christmas. If I had experienced that, I probably wouldn't either."

Heads nodded around the room in response.

"We can't do anything about his past Christmases," Judy stated, "but we can certainly make his future Christmases brighter."

"Yeah!" Will and Penny exclaimed together.

"I can bake his favorite dessert," Mrs. Robinson offered.

"We can make him some gifts," Will suggested.

"But, what?" Penny asked.

The Professor pointed at the Robot, "That playset he wanted as a kid… the Captain Space thing. My older brother had one. I remember what many of the pieces looked like."

"We still have quite a bit of thermoplastic in inventory," Don provided.

"Perfect," John smiled. "Don, Will, you want to help me carve some figures and make molds?"

"Yes, sir!" Will beamed.

"Let's do it," the Major replied, rubbing his hands together. He could set aside his differences with the doctor for Christmas.

"Wait," Judy interjected. "Won't Doctor Smith know the Robot told us if we give him a present like that?"

Silence hung in the air until the Robot broke it. "I believe Doctor Smith's ire will be short-lived. He will enjoy the gift."

"What can Judy and I do?" Penny asked.

Everyone thought for a moment trying to think of something thoughtful Smith would enjoy.

"I know!" Judy exclaimed. "Just this morning, he was complaining of the cold in the Jupiter 2. He was wearing his winter jacket over his night shirt. I explained to him we had to conserve energy and keep the temperature a few degrees lower. He understood, but I know he's sensitive to the temperature. How about a nice, warm robe?"

"And some fuzzy, warm slippers!" Penny added.

Mrs. Robinson chimed in, "We have some fleece material in inventory that would fit the bill. I'll help you two get the machines set up with the right measurements. Then, you two can help me in the galley."

"Alright," John announced, "we all have our assignments and only ten hours until our usual Christmas wakeup time. Let's get to it."

The family worked late into the night on their projects. Knowing the good doctor's propensity for late night snacks and trips to the bathroom, they set up their workspaces in cabins or other areas he wouldn't be likely to visit.

Judy and Penny finished first, producing a warm, comfortable matching robe and slipper set. Once they'd wrapped it and set it under the tree, they offered to help the men on their project, since it would take the longest. They formed an assembly line, each taking a separate job. John and Don carved the figures based on John's memories. Will created the molds. The Robot pitched in by melting the plastic with the heating elements in his claws. Judy and Penny poured the plastic into the molds and set them aside to cool. It took the crew all night to produce a set of two dozen rough figures including several spacemen with ray guns, rockets, a flying saucer, a robot, and a vehicle that resembled a hovercraft.

The crew finished with just a few hours to spare. As the children were wrapping the last gift, Maureen was piping "Merry Christmas" on a German chocolate cake. She swatted John's finger away as he tried to swipe some frosting.

Once Mrs. Robinson had set the cake on the counter, the seven of them all stood back and admired their handiwork for a moment before Don stated he was going to bed. "I'm beat."

A round of "me toos" echoed through the room as everyone headed to their respective cabins.

A few hours later, Smith awoke. Stifling a yawn, he drew the covers back and stumbled out of bed. He hugged himself and shivered from the cold. The doctor headed for the galley to get a glass of water. On his way, he noticed the number of gifts under the tree had grown. Curiosity eating at him, he went to the tree and inspected the new gifts.

"To Doctor Smith?" His brows furrowed in confusion. "From Penny and Judy." He picked up another one. "To Doctor Smith, From Will. To Doctor Smith, From John and… Don?" He looked back at the cabins, perplexed.

A grin suddenly spread across his face. As a child, he'd never had the opportunity to sneak a peek at his gifts. Carefully, he unwrapped the gifts as quietly as he could, intending to re-wrap them later so the others would be none the wiser. He pulled the warm fleece robe and slippers from the box, felt the soft material with his hands, and caressed it against his face. The doctor set them down and giddily picked up the next gift, from Will. It was oddly shaped, and Smith couldn't fathom what it could contain. He opened it to find a flying saucer, roughly resembling the Jupiter 2. It was made of plastic and he realized it must've taken a lot of work for the boy to create. The doctor examined it thoroughly, running his fingers over the smooth surface. He set it atop the robe and slippers and grabbed the last package.

When he opened the box, his brows furrowed, and he knew the Robot had betrayed his confidence. He pulled a spaceman from the box. It was a close approximation of what he remembered. He was puzzled as to how they could have known what it looked like. Did he describe it to the Robot? He couldn't remember. He'd told him so many things… and fell asleep before he could erase his tapes. Smith mentally chided himself and felt his ire leave him. He was still a tad irritated that the Robot had let them in on some of his most private thoughts, but it was clear from this gesture that they meant well.

Smith pulled the rest of the figures out of the box and set them on the floor. Smiling, he arranged them as he remembered seeing them in the toy store window so many years ago and began to play.

A half hour passed before the family members began to trickle out of their cabins, a bit groggy, but ready to celebrate. Smith realized he was caught red-handed having opened his presents early and neglecting to re-wrap them in time. He tried to hide everything behind him, but blushed, knowing he couldn't fool them.

"You know, Smith, opening your presents early is a sure way to get on Santa's naughty list for next year," the Major joked.

Will ran over and sat down next to Smith. "Well? How'd you like them?"

Smith sat silently, running his fingers over one of the figures and studying it.

"You're not mad at us, are you, Doctor Smith?" Penny asked, mistaking his silence for anger.

"No," he looked up at her and invited her to sit down next to him. "On the contrary, I'm quite touched." His eyes began to well up. "No one's ever done anything like this for me."

Penny sat down next to him. "When Robot told us why you didn't like Christmas, we decided you needed some good memories to overcome the bad."

Smith grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "This gesture has touched me so much, I think I might cry."

The Robot rolled forward, offering the doctor one of his handkerchiefs.

"Thank you, ninny." Smith grabbed the hanky and dabbed his eyes. "I'm afraid I didn't get any of you anything."

"That's ok, Doctor Smith," Judy replied.

"You have a whole year to plan for next Christmas," Don quipped. Everyone laughed, even Smith.

"Dad, can we open our presents now?" Will asked.

John nodded and the kids dug right in, tearing paper, and laughing.

Smith looked on, imagining what it would've been like to have Christmases like this as a child. At least, thanks to the Robinsons, he had some inkling. He smiled, taking it all in, the children's excitement, the loving glances between the Professor and Mrs. Robinson, the amusement passing between Judy and Don.

As the last gift was unwrapped, Mrs. Robinson announced that Doctor Smith had one more gift, from her. "German chocolate cake."

Smith's eyes widened as he searched the galley. "Where is it?"

"Ah, Doctor Smith. Not until after dinner."

"Mrs. Robinson, it's Christmas. It was my understanding that in some cultures the traditional breakfast for Christmas was German chocolate cake," Smith winked.

"Ooh, I LIKE that tradition," Penny declared.

"Me too!" Will added. "Can we?"

Everyone looked at Mrs. Robinson pleadingly.

The Robinson matriarch had a feeling she was outnumbered and, relenting, nodded. "Alright."

The children bolted to the table. Smith attempted to, but found he had a harder time getting up from the floor. The Major extended a hand, and after a moment's hesitation, Smith took it. "Thank you, Major."

At the table, Smith glanced around, soaking in the warm feeling of belonging he'd missed as a child. He'd grown up without Christmas and without much of a family. He suddenly found himself with both and it was better than he ever could have imagined.


End file.
